


Fates Intertwined

by StevetheIcecube



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Diplomacy, Languages, M/M, Male My Unit | Reflet | Robin, Plegian Culture, Racism, Religion, Robin and Reflet are twins, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Ylissean Culture, foreign culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-18 16:44:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12392058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StevetheIcecube/pseuds/StevetheIcecube
Summary: A series of connected oneshots written for Chrobin week. To maintain the shaky peace between Plegia and Ylisse, Emmeryn and Validar arrange a union between their two nations - the second in line to the leadership of both. There are challenges with integration, but they get on much better than expected.





	1. Heroes

**Author's Note:**

> This is prompt 1: Heroes. I know I'm a bit late starting this, but I saw it and just had to!

Chrom wasn’t a hero like he’d always wanted to be when he was younger. That much was blatantly and sadly clear. He wasn’t a hero like his father wanted him to be; he liked to think he was kinder than his father, but he wasn’t a hero. Being kind didn’t make him a hero. So he guessed he wasn’t really the person he wanted to be, but he couldn’t avoid that. There were other, more important unavoidable things going on right now. Things that were a little more pressing than him failing to live up to his childhood vision of himself.

The negotiations with Plegia weren’t ‘peace negotiations’, exactly. They were...a series of diplomatic engagements between two countries that were almost literally on the verge of war. That was what Emm called it, anyway. They were incredibly important, not least of all because there were literally troops stationed at the border at this very moment, waiting for the order to attack. Not the order to stand down, but the order to attack.

Chrom didn’t exactly understand the situation, and he didn’t pretend to. He should probably make an effort to actually, if he was going to help his people through whatever this was. Something about religion and a dragon that wasn’t Naga? And, uh, paramilitary forces being supported by the government? Honestly, he couldn’t remember, so he needed to brush up on that.

As a prince, he should probably be more informed about what was going on in the world, but foreign affairs was usually Emmeryn’s thing and he dealt with home affairs, because people liked him and Emm was better at remembering stuff and not offending people who came from other countries. He was hopeless with foreign customs.

He was sort of embarrassed to ask anyone what was going on with Plegia right now that meant the Ylissean government were so angry with them, so he looked it up. And, well, oh shit. He sort of understood why tensions were so high at the moment, but there was one thing he didn’t understand.

“Emm, why do you want me to be at the conference? I’ve never done any foreign affairs work before.” It wasn’t that he minded, he just really wanted to know why. “I’m not sure I’m best suited for the job.”

Emmeryn paused for a long moment and she looked...guilty. Nervousness started to rise in Chrom’s throat. What on earth could she be guilty about? “I should have mentioned this to you before, I apologise.”

“Just tell me?” He said. He felt slightly put out that there was something she was clearly hiding from him, and even though she just said she should tell him, she’d made no movement to actually tell him. “I get that things are tense right now, so could you tell me? I might be able to have some input into whatever it is.”

“Do you understand the system of government in Plegia?” Emm asked, and Chrom was now very, very glad he had looked all of this up this morning. He nodded, but she continued anyway. “There is their king; he will be attending the negotiations, and he’s almost impossible to reason with, but he is allied with their church.”

“The church of Grima,” Chrom said. Just trying to show he knew what she was talking about.

“Yes,” she said. “And the issue is about the fanatic following that church has, but I’m sure you know about that. The figurehead at the top of the church is a man named Validar, and he’s the one it’s possible to negotiate with. The existence of a government-supported paramilitary force means their standing army exceeds the general peace, and he’s the one with control over that force.”

“Is there something I can do to help with him, then?” He asked. Did the Grimleal have some kind of strange rule about not speaking to women? That was the only thing he could think of on the spot.

“I’m asking something rather big of you here,” Emmeryn said. “Think about it before you say anything. That’s why I’ve given you a couple of days notice before the talks start.” Now he was just getting nervous. He wasn’t really a nervous person, not normally. But this was making him nervous.

“Sure, just- just fire away, don’t worry about it,” he said. When Emmeryn said she was asking something big, he knew it was big, because asking something small was ‘take a two month trip around the kingdom’ in her books.

“Validar wishes to create a ‘lasting diplomatic tie’ between our two nations, and he has suggested something rather unorthodox, but he assures me it’s fairly standard in Plegia,” she said. That sounded bad.

“And what is it?” He said, probably too quickly to give off any semblance of being calm.

“The Fell Dragon passes down its bloodline much like the blood of the Divine Dragon runs through our veins, and the position Validar holds is taken by the first born child, much like my position as Exalt.” Chrom could see where this was going, but when he tried to think about it his mind stubbornly ran into a dead end and refused to process it.

“Does he want me to-”

“Yes,” she said. “Validar has two children. Twins, in fact. The heir is named Reflet, she’ll be at the negotiations too.”

“They want me to- to sire the- next heir?” That was absolutely dastardly. Insisting on giving future Plegian nobility the right to the Ylissean throne too? That was ingenious.

“No,” she said, and Chrom could only let out a relieved laugh. “He would like a symbolic link between the kingdoms rather than a physical one. He’s surprisingly reasonable about this, honestly. Validar has proposed you marry Reflet’s younger twin. I know you-” Chrom opened his mouth, and she raised a hand to stop him. “Just wait a minute, Chrom, let me speak.

“I know this isn’t what you planned or wanted for your future, but this is such a fantastic chance for diplomacy! You’d live here most of the time, probably, and peace would last your entire life. Plegians, nor the Grimleal, would go up against one of their own. You cannot fault their loyalty and tenacity. It’s...a very heroic sacrifice to make. I understand it’s a sacrifice, but you would be the saviour of our people, their hero.”

“Let me think about it,” Chrom said. “I- will she be there, at the negotiations? What’s her name?”

“His name is Robin,” Emmeryn said. “I know, I know, but it’s fairly usual in the nobility of Plegia, apparently.” Heroic action or not, Chrom was honestly not sure if he could marry a man.

“I’ll think about it,” he said again. He didn’t know if he really would, though. He didn’t know if he had the choice. And, really, he truly wanted to be a hero.


	2. Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: training, taken liberally to mean tutoring. Robin has to drastically improve his Ylissean language skills before he goes to the conference.

"Come on Robin, just try again!" His tutor was trying to sound encouraging, but honestly his voice sounded like a funeral dirge at the moment. Maybe it was a funeral dirge. His funeral dirge. Because he had died. Of boredom.

"Are you sure I have to know how to do this?" He asked, shifting his body back into a neutral position. "Is this an anachronism or an actual greeting?" He couldn't understand why Ylisseans would 'shake hands' to greet each other. What were words for if not that?

"Ylisseans definitely still do this," he said. "And they do it without the heavy accent, too, so you need to get at least something right. You need more practise with your Ylissean."

"I can read it," he said, a week protest that he knew was weak but he said it anyway. "Reflet can speak it?"

"Reflet isn't marrying the Ylissean prince," his tutor said. "You are. And, generally, it's a good idea if the country you're taking vows in can actually understand what you're saying."

"My accent isn't that bad," he protested.

"It absolutely is," he said. "You say something in Ylissean and I'll see if I can understand what you've said."

"Fine," he said. "Um. Yesterday I was reading outside and there was a fucking sandstorm and my book has sand in it now."

"Uh, what? All I gathered was you were reading and then you swore in Plegian. I'm not going to teach you Ylissean swear words." His tutor looked annoyed. "You're going to flounder at this conference, you know."

"How do I not flounder, then?" There was no use having a Ylissean tutor if he couldn't teach him Ylissean.

"You could read Ylissean books aloud," he suggested. "Don't you have friends? Read to them on video call or something. Listen to audio stuff in Ylissean online? You're clearly not paying enough attention to me, and we only have one more lesson before you go."

"I'll- I'll be coming back," he said, his voice shaking slightly. The plan was he'd go straight to Ylisstol when they were done at the conference and then they'd get married. He hadn't thought about the possibility that when he left next week, that would be him going.

"I doubt you'll need an Ylissean tutor then," he said with a smile. "Exposure is the best thing for learning a foreign language, so I'm sure you'll pick it up then. You just need to be a little better at it now."

"I know," he said. Henry would probably be open to talking in Ylissean tonight, he liked weird stuff like that. "Is there anything else you wanted to do?"

"We can take it from the top with the greeting you'll give to all the dignitaries. Do you remember when you'd use such a greeting?"

Robin sighed, and went back to speaking Ylissean to match the man, albeit more slowly this time. "If someone is introduced to me individually I would do this," he said, standing up a little taller. "It is a pleasure to meet you. If only it was not at such a solemn occasion." He stuck his hand out, still not quite sure on the position he was meant to put his hand in. What if they misunderstood and just left him there? What if they tried to greet him in a manner more suited to greeting someone who bore the mark of Grima?

"And what would you say if you haven't been introduced to them first?" He asked, taking Robin's hand and shaking it. This time, Robin remembered to keep a firm grip, letting his tutor lift his hand three times before he loosened it and pulled away.

"I am Robin Grimleal, the youngest son of his Holy Lord Validar of Plegia," he said. Fuck, he hated his full title.

"Good," his tutor said. "For Ylisseans, however, it's Validar with the vowel sound of validate, rather than the sounds of leader."

"Ylisseans can stuff their awkward pronunciation," Robin said with a frown. "I think I know how to say my father's name."

"It's the Ylissised version," he explained. "The same way you say Ellistal if speaking in Plegian but Ylisstol if speaking in Ylissean."

“Ylisseans can stuff their awkward pronunciation,” he said, this time grinning at his tutor in as obnoxious a way as possible. The man sighed. “Anything else?”

“You can go,” he said, shuffling the papers on the desk into his bag. “Listen to as much spoken Ylissean as possible, that’s the only advice I can really give. We’ll work on some more common customs next week as a last minute thing before you go.”

“Thanks,” Robin said, even though, really, he didn’t need to say thanks because the man was being paid extortionate amounts of money by his father to tutor him. The man didn’t really need thanks when he was probably being set up for life just for this handful of lessons. Ah well. “See you next week.”

-

When he got back to his room, he shot Henry a text. ‘U know you wanna help me with my ylis speaking, right?’

‘What do you want me to do,’ came the reply, and Robin smiled. His friend was...weird. But his experience made him pretty invaluable with this kind of thing. ‘Just got outta lessons tho so I need to do hmwk at the same time’

‘Hmwk sux,’ he said. ‘Shame I don’t have to do it :P’ Henry went to a very strict magic school pretty near the Ylissean border, and honestly Robin was surprised that lessons were even going on at the moment considering how tense things were. Henry had mentioned that there were Ylissean soldiers camped just outside the school grounds.

‘If ur fancy brain could tell me about the history of anima then that would be gr8,’ was the only response. As a rule, Robin didn’t do Henry’s homework for him, but he kinda really needed help with this Ylissean stuff.

‘Fiiiine give me the question and I’ll help u with a plan but I’m NOT writing it for you,’ he said. Henry sent back six variations of smiling emoticons and then a knife emoji because he was Henry. Robin could only smile. He wished he didn’t have to do this. He wished their time together wasn’t spent training him for some useless political end which would probably just result in him being assassinated very far from home. But he didn’t get what he wished for, which was why he had to practise shaking hands and speaking clearly in Ylissean.


	3. Autumn Holiday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3: Autumn Holiday
> 
> The Plegian delegation has arrived and Chrom doesn't meet them in the planned way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Chrobin week is over, but I'm going to keep going :) the third prompt was 'Halloween', so I adapted it to something that fit a little better.

The negotiations were set to take place in Ylisstol during the harvest festivities, which made said celebrations slightly intense. There were soldiers posted on every other street corner, both to keep an eye on the important Ylissean dignitaries involved as well as make sure the Plegians weren't getting into any trouble; they weren't exactly well liked in Ylisstol.

Chrom was almost too nervous to even attend the festivities. There were two days of the annual market before the conference started, but there were other things on his mind, especially on the second day.

The negotiators from the Plegian royal and holy families had arrived. They'd arrived pretty late the night before, in a parade of five very posh cars. The servants and luggage arrived separately in larger vans that were conspicuously inconspicuous. Because they arrived after dinner, they'd retired straight to their suites, and Chrom hadn't been there to greet them, so he hadn't even seen the Ylissean man Emmeryn was proposing he should marry. He was told, however, that the king, the head of the Grimleal, and his two children were all here.

Chrom spent the whole second day worrying he was going to see them. He knew they'd probably be heavily surrounded by bodyguards who were trying to be casual but they'd all be Plegian so they'd be incredibly obvious. He knew he'd probably be able to duck out of sight, but he was on edge all morning to the extent he skipped breakfast at the castle and decided to get something at the market. He didn't want to meet these people when he wasn't fully prepared.

He'd been in the marketplace for about an hour, wandering around with a toasted sausage sandwich and trying not to think about how the stand that sold it had lots of cute pictures of pigs in it. There was a slight mist in the air, but it was starting to dissipate, leaving the air pleasantly cool but not damp. It would be warm in the afternoon, but for now Chrom was fine in a hoodie. People were happy, chatting, and they seemed unperturbed by the presence of the army on every other corner. No one had noticed him as who he was, which was pretty normal if he wasn’t wearing all the prince regalia.

Very abruptly, someone turned a corner and bumped into him. They let out a soft ‘oof’ sound before falling backwards and hitting the pavement (Chrom didn’t envy them; it was wet and covered in leaves) while Chrom just stumbled and caught the wall for balance. “Ah shit, are you okay?” He held a hand out to the stranger, who looked a tiny bit dazed as they sat there on the ground.

“I- yes,” the person said, taking his hand and letting Chrom pull him up. The man was wearing gloves even though it wasn’t too cold, expensive gloves. His voice had a very heavy Plegian accent. Judging by his dark skin, subtly expensive clothes, and the accent, he was probably a dignitary for the conference. And he, the sole prince of Ylisse, had just swore at him. “I’m sorry, I was not looking where I was going.”

“No worries,” he said. And then, being the oaf that he was with diplomacy, he decided to take the initiative. “Are you part of the Plegian delegation for the conference?” Seeing the sudden rush of fear in the man’s face, he backtracked. “I’m involved in the talks with the Hierophant and his children.”

“Oh, I-” the man glanced around the corner. “Can we keep walking? Some soldiers were looking at me suspiciously. They probably won’t mind if I’m with you.” Chrom nodded, turning to go back the way he had come with this man at his side.

“What are you here for? You’re quite young to be a dignitary from Plegia,” he said. Oops, that was probably a bit rude. The man with him sort of frowned in response, his eyebrows furrowed a little. Chrom noticed immediately that his eyebrows were a dark contrast to his bright white hair. You didn’t really get those kinds of hair colours in Ylisseans, which made him look incredibly distinctive in the crowd.

“Aren’t you a bit young too?” He asked. “I’m not usually on diplomatic trips, but this is exceptional circumstances and it can’t be left to my sister like usual.” Chrom almost scoffed at the phrase ‘exceptional circumstances’. That was one way to describe it.

“That’s pretty much the same for me,” he said. “When did you arrive? Do you like Ylisstol?” He tried to think of all the things Emm usually said to foreign diplomats when they were here. Empty opinion things that would help everyone relax but not get any defences up, hopefully.

“I arrived last night,” he said, and Chrom started to get a slight sinking feeling. A Plegian with a sister who usually did all the diplomatic stuff who arrived last night. “I like the city. I live in Gritea, and it’s a lot more enclosed than Ylisstol. There are lots of trees here, but I guess the opposite is inevitable in a desert.”

“That’s true,” he said. “Gritea has some beautiful architecture though, and a lot of it is really old. Ylisstol had an overhaul so it’s not as historic as Gritea.” He had maybe read up on places in Plegia just so he could make some meaningless comments about culture and history so he looked like he was knowledgeable.

“I’m not meant to say stuff like this because of dad but I really like the religious architecture Ylisse has-” he looked around hurriedly, probably checking to see if any Plegians were about to smite him for blasphemy. Honestly, Chrom was surprised. He’d been told by about sixty different people to just avoid mentioning religion altogether around Plegians. He would have thought that the Plegians had been told exactly the same thing.

“Is your father involved with religion then?” He asked, testing the waters slightly. He sort of knew where this was going, he wasn’t stupid, and he didn’t want it to go this way because the moment he revealed who he was this was going to become a very stiff, formal conversation. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I-” the man looked around again, and then lowered his voice before he spoke. “My father is the Hierophant.” Well, shit. He just swore at his future husband.


	4. Animals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4: Animals
> 
> Robin has an uncomfortable experience in a talk he attended for fun and Chrom comes to the rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be clear, this takes place after their formal meeting at the conference, but before any deal has actually been finalised in the talks.
> 
> This chapter was written in collaboration with my df Em, and you can find more of our collab work on our account TheDoctorIsIcecube.

"In the text, Plegians are portrayed as animals, which doesn't shock us now as we know it's pretty much true." It was an offhand comment made by the person making the speech presuming that everyone in the room agreed with him, because hey, there weren't any Plegians in the room. Why would there be any Plegians? Plegians didn't live in Ylisse, and visiting Plegians didn't attend talks in a library on literature.

The audience laughed along with the speaker, and Robin scowled from where he was sitting, close to the back. He was tempted to raise his hand and ask a question, but he thought he'd wait until the end for maximum discomfort value. Instead, he reached for his phone and texted the statement to Reflet. She sent a laughing crying emoji back along with a skull. That pretty much summarised how Robin felt about it too. He wondered, idly, what Chrom felt about such a statement.

"However, this novel may be a classic piece of semi-prophetic fiction now, but at the time it was dismissed as xenophobic drivel." That was because it was xenophobic drivel, but Robin wasn't going to say that yet. 

He took his phone out again, locating Chrom’s number in his contacts. They’d met formally the other day, and, of course, they’d exchanged numbers at the recommendation of his father because ‘that’s what young people do these days’. Robin typed out a text and hovered over the send button, debating for a moment, before shrugging and sending the message.

‘There’s racists at this talk in the library, send help :(‘ He was sort of expecting nothing back, or at least something noncommittal or telling him just to ignore it or leave or something, but he got quite a different response.

‘Gods, are they really being racist at this kind of time? Why on earth would they think that’s okay? :/ I’m on my way to roast some racists, see ya soon’

‘What??’ Oh, gods, Robin hoped he hadn’t just done something awful. He didn’t need to make a huge scene by being kicked out of a library along with the prince of the country. He waited anxiously for a reply back, but none came- oh, this was not a good sign at all.

Half an hour of listening to literal hate speech later, Chrom slipped into the talk with a muttered apology about being late and sat in the empty seat next to Robin. “I didn’t want to make a scene,” Robin muttered.

“We won’t need to,” Chrom said. “Which book is it?”

“Wolves of the Desert,” Robin murmured. 

“Ugh…” Chrom scowled. Robin knew that face- it was the ‘I demand justice’ face, and it meant that Chrom was going to do something stupid. “So, what are we going to do about this? You do have a plan, right?”

“We could wrest control of the floor with your superior intellect,” Chrom said. “And if he starts dismissing you we can do some name dropping? I think he’ll backtrack as soon as he sees that you’re Plegian.”

“Uh...alright.” Robin wasn’t quite sure he was brave enough to speak up and be loud enough to get the speaker’s attention, but as it turned out, he didn’t actually have to.

“Would you two at the back be so kind as to share whatever it is that you’re whispering about, hmm?” Everyone in the crowd turned around to look at them, and Chrom shifted the sleeve of his shirt to cover the mark of the exalt (Robin was still yet to ask if that was a tattoo or not).

“I object to your view that this text is prophetic or accurate in any way,” Robin said, swallowing down the worry. He was not causing a war by saying this. He was fine. He stood up, clearly revealing his own unmistakably Plegian features. “I think that the people of old were absolutely right when they called it xenophobic drivel.” Honestly, he was scared. But he had just enough faith in Chrom to trust that he would back Robin up when he needed it.

“How so? Your own obvious status aside for the sake of objectivity, please.”

“Plegians aren’t animals, simply enough,” he said. “The book portrays them as uncouth and uncivilised. While the Plegians of ages past were often nomadic as shown in the book, they did not operate in packs like wolves or coyotes, simply tribes, often trading tribes that frequently came into Ylisse when the borders were not quite so fixed.”

“It’s just like a Plegian to make the assumption that the book is meant to be taken literally,” the speaker sneered. “Obviously, the depiction of Plegians as wolves is intended to be metaphorical. You’re taking everything just a little too seriously, don’t you think?”

“The depiction is metaphorical, of course,” he said. Of course it was metaphorical, did this man think he was an idiot? “But the time of writing dates back to the beginning of the use of the printing press in Ylisse, and a time when ideas of borders and nationality were developing. The depiction of Plegians as lower, less intelligent people, promoted the base idea of nationalism that was growing at the time. Hence, it is not just fiction but a profoundly political novel.”

Robin heard a soft snort from next to him, and he glanced over to see Chrom grinning, barely containing his laughter. That was encouraging, he supposed. Chrom thought he was doing well, so he probably wasn’t making too big of a fool of himself. He stood up a little taller, squaring his shoulders a little more confidently.

“You are yet to tell me why I was wrong to say this novel was prophetic,” the man said. “I maintain that while yes, the novel may wish to show people a certain view of Plegia, there is no evidence to say this view is incorrect.”

“No evidence except for the fact that Plegia is a perfectly civilised nation with thriving industry and a perfectly normal society. Not the sort of thing that ‘uncouth, uncivilised wolves’ would be able to create. Even the fact that I, a Plegian, am capable of sustaining a decent argument with you ought to be enough of a reason to see that we aren’t all animals.”

“When speaking about Plegians as uncouth animals, generally people don’t mean young men engaging in a literary debate,” the man said. “Usually people mean those who want to start a war over some idea about a dragon wanting them to kill lots of people. Or the destruction caused by Plegians a decade ago.”

“That’s a very small minority of people in Plegia, they’re just a vocal and powerful minority. When you start judging all Plegians like that, which many people do, that’s where the issue lies.” Robin was really glad that his father couldn’t hear him speaking about the Grimleal in this way.

The speaker rolled his eyes, clearly not fond of being accused of racism. Robin wondered if it had happened before, or if racists mostly went unchallenged in Ylisse. “Look- you talk big for someone barely older than a kid, but what about your friend there, the one snickering. What does he have to say for himself?”

Robin glanced at Chrom, who nodded. “Oh, that’s my friend Chrom. He’s the younger brother of the Exalt.” The man snorted. Then he looked at Chrom closer. And then he looked again. And then his face went very, very pale. And then it went bright red.

“Hi,” Chrom said, standing up next to Robin. He was a more intimidating presence, frankly- especially when he rolled his sleeve back up to show of the Mark of the Exalt. “Since I am the Exalt’s younger brother, as my dear friend here said, I’ll be talking to the library staff to make sure you never spout this racist nonsense here again.”

“That’s- that’s against my right of free speech,” the man protested. The people sitting in the audience seemed to be getting sort of angry.

“Law in Ylisse dictates you have free speech up to inciting hatred against others. I think the police will be particularly unsympathetic considering the current conditions of the relationship with Plegia and the fact that you gave an open access lecture about how much you hate Plegians during a time when many important Plegians are staying in the city.”

The speaker didn’t even have a response to that- he just hurried back to his podium and started gathering up his notes. “Now would be a good time for us to leave,” Chrom said in a low voice, taking Robin’s arm and tugging him away. “You don’t want to get caught up in anything nasty…”

“I think I already am,” Robin said with a wry grin. He didn’t mean this, of course, he meant the stupid political marriage, but he couldn’t joke about that in public. Regardless, he got up, grabbed his bag, and left the library with Chrom not far behind him.

Once they got out of the library, they looked at each other for a moment and just burst into laughter. “I cannot believe you made me do that,” Robin managed to get out through his laughter, releasing a shaky breath in an attempt to try and calm himself down. “That was...that was kind of amazing, though. His face when I told him who you were, oh my gods…”

“I hate name dropping but I just discovered a whole new potential in my birth,” Chrom said. “And it has nothing to do with a ceremonial sword.”

“Is the Falchion real?” Robin asked. “Like, is it a real sword? Because I’ve only heard of it in stories.”

“Yeah, it’s real,” Chrom said. “I can show it to you back at the castle if you like, but don’t tell anyone. Seeing as we’re- friends, you know, like you said.”

Robin only grinned in response. This had certainly been a strange series of events in his life, but no matter how bad the situation he was in actually was, Chrom was always the sole good thing.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually haven't played Awakening, so if there's anything glaringly wrong please let me know :) just in general please let me know how you feel about what I've written because feedback really helps.


End file.
